


Forgotten

by SumOfAllThings



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe, Angst, Doctor Whump, F/M, Government, Government Agencies, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Lived, M/M, Pete's World, Pete's World Torchwood, Seriously Angsty, Torchwood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:11:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumOfAllThings/pseuds/SumOfAllThings
Summary: “Why did you leave?” She asked, reaching out and gently cupping his face. “You abandoned me and now I’ve gotten so old.”“Nonsense,” the Doctor chided softly. “You’re as beautiful as the day we met.”“I’m old,” she insisted with a surprising amount of clarity. “And you lied to me. He lied to me.”The Doctor felt his heart clench painfully. His single, human heart.“He didn’t mean to lie,” he whispered, pressing his face against her brittle shoulder. “He didn’t know.”





	1. Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I've always felt that the meta-crisis Doctor's life must have been pretty tragic. Imagine being shackled to a human life when you have the memories of a nine hundred year old Time Lord. Consider what it must have been like to be that free, to have once held the power to go anywhere in the universe. And imagine how it must have felt to be abandoned on an unfamiliar planet with no way to escape.
> 
> And then, after finally resigning himself to his new life and deciding he would spend it with the woman he loved, the Doctor realises his physiology is more Gallifreyan than initially thought. He wasn't ageing, or at least not discernibly and Rose was human. Rose was mortal...

“Theta darling, help me will you?”

The Doctor gently finished placing the Calluna shrub into the earth. It was an unseasonably warm day and he could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his spine. He put down the trowel he was holding and wiped the excess dirt off his hands. “Coming,” he said softly, stepping into the conservatory and settling onto his knees beside her favourite armchair. “Is everything OK?”

“Oh,” she said, her rheumatic eyes lost and unfocused. “Oh, I think I’ve…do you know I think I’ve forgotten.”

“That’s alright,” the Doctor said and he didn’t need to fake the warmth in his tone. “There isn’t any rush. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Time,” she said, smiling wistfully. “Yes, all the time. Do you remember Doctor?”

“Remember what?” he asked gently, stroking her snowy white hair away from her wrinkled brow. He forced himself not to react to the name. She hadn’t called him that in a very long time.

Rose leaned into his touch and took a deep, slow breath. “Do you remember when we used to fly?”

“Through space and time,” he answered, smiling wistfully.

“Why did you leave?” She asked, reaching out to cup his cheek. “You left me and now I’ve gotten so old.”

“Nonsense,” the Doctor chided softly. “You’re as beautiful now as the day we met.”

“I’m old,” she insisted with a surprising amount of clarity in her voice. “And you lied to me. _He lied to me_.”

The Doctor felt his heart clench painfully. His single, human heart.

“He didn’t mean to lie,” he whispered, pressing his face against her brittle shoulder. “He didn’t know.”

“You were supposed to be mine,” she said accusingly. “You were brought here for me.”

“I am yours,” the Doctor promised. “Always.”

Her expression altered dramatically; a result of the disease slowly stealing her memories. She chuckled as her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’re such a dear, sweet thing,” she said, patting his hair softly. “But what about when I’m gone, Theta? You’ll be alone.”

“What does that matter?” He asked, aware that he sounded a little desperate. “You’re here now.”

“Oh my love,” she said, her voice so sad that it made the Doctor want to pick up her frail frame and crush her against his chest. “It’s his fault. He said you would be mine forever. And now I’m going to have to leave you.”

************

It was Pneumonia the end. His beautiful, amazing girl passed away in his arms despite how desperately the Doctor fought to keep her alive. One hundred and fifteen was unheard of for a human, or so the paramedics told him. It was remarkable she had lived as long as she had

No one came to her funeral. Everyone she knew and loved died years ago. It had just been the two for such a long time.

“Excuse me, Mr Tyler?” a deep voice enquired, startling the Doctor from his stupor. He realised with a start that it was raining. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Very possibly.” the Doctor said with a smile he certainly didn’t feel. He turned and found himself facing a tall, broad shouldered man of some middling years. He had a hard face and a aurora about him that instantly put the Doctor on edge. “Can I help you?”

“You’re the late Mrs Rose’s son?”

The Doctor felt a stab of grief that he hastily pushed aside. “Yes, that’s correct. May I help you?”

The man stepped closer. He was most certainly in the Doctor’s personal bubble. “Have you quite late in life did she?”

Ah yes, because human women weren’t usually capable of having a child past their fifties. It was odd. His mind felt sluggish. Fuzzy. Was this how grief affected humans?

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you say mother? No, no of course not. She was my grandmother. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” the other man agreed with a very not nice smile on his face. He had a handsome face. The sort of face that made people stop and stare. His hair was perfectly quaffed and he had a prominent jaw and straight nose. His teeth were very white.

“Is there something I can help you with?” The Doctor asked, fighting down the urge to turn on his heels and bolt. Something bad was about to happen. He was almost sure of it.

“I’m from an organisation that was once closely tied with your grandmother,”

“Oh yeah?” the Doctor asked, trying not to look too obvious as he allowed his gaze to slowly move over the graveyard. His Rose had literally just been buried. He didn’t want this. Not now.

“Torchwood had a very close relationship with Mrs Tyler. There was an agreement in place in fact.”

The Doctor took a step back. He needed to leave.

“But she’s gone now. All previous agreements are nil and void.”

There were men and women approaching. Five of them, dressed in identical black suits. They didn’t look like mourners.

“You haven’t told me your name,” the Doctor noted as he slowly started to retreat. He wasn’t surprised when the other man followed him.

“How rude of me,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “My name is agent Barker.”

The Doctor bolted.


	2. Not good

Agent Barker immediately gave chase. The Doctor was a fast runner. One of his favourite hobbies was jogging, yet it seemed clear to him that the other man was catching up.

Not good. Seriously, not good.

The rain was coming down harder, flowing into the Doctor’s eyes and impeding his sight. He pushed himself further and felt pavement under his feet. He was out of the graveyard and was heading towards a busy street. Without much thought for his wellbeing he burst into main road and straight into traffic. He heard a shout behind him but kept going. A car passed by, narrowly missing him as the Doctor barely swerved out of the way in time.

He didn’t see the figure that rammed into him until it was too late. Stupid of him, not to have considered agent Barker’s friends. He hit the ground hard, struggling under the bulk of a much larger man. The shouting was increasing. People were crying out for help.

The Doctor couldn’t _breathe_.

“Calm down,” a voice sneered into the Doctor’s ear as his arms were roughly twisted behind his back. He felt something cold encircle his wrists and then he was being hauled to his feet.

He looked up into the eyes of a tall black man, middle aged and handsome but with something dark in his eyes that made the Doctor want to put as much space as possible between them. “I have him,” he said into his com, pulling the Doctor closer when he tried to squirm free.

A woman jogged up to them, tall and blonde with a pointed chin and ice blue eyes. The Doctor wouldn’t have called her beautiful so much as striking. She pulled out a badge as she approached the Doctor and brandished it at the watching crowd.

“Official police business,” she shouted, her voice deep and authoritative. “All of you stand back. Now. Get back.”

The Doctor noticed the other agents then. Two of them were stood over a prone figure on the ground. Agent Barker, unconscious by the look of him and bleeding from a nasty blow to the head. The Doctor surmised the agent had been hit by one of the cars when he chased the Doctor into traffic.

Really, really not good.

A black SUV with flashing blue and white lights pulled up beside them. “Wait. _Wait_!” The Doctor shouted as a side door opened and he was strong-armed forward. He did not want to get into that car. Nothing good would come from getting in the car. “Just, stop for a moment and listen.”

“Shut up,” the agent hissed into his ear as another pair of hands erupted out of the car and latched onto the Doctor’s coat.

He fell into the car with quite a bit of force, jarring his shoulder in the process and causing a shock of pain to run up his left arm. He immediately tried to sit up and released a small hiss of discomfort when his neck was grabbed as he was pinned face first against the car seat.

He felt hands on him, groping and invasive.

“He packing?” the black agent asked, his hand tightening around the Doctor’s neck painfully.

The Doctor wasn’t. He refused to carry any weapons of any sort. He would have been happy to tell them as much, if they weren’t quite so intent in trying to smother him.

“He’s unarmed,” the other agent, the one the Doctor hadn’t managed to catch a glimpse of yet, said as the exploratory hands fell away. “Barker – is he?”

“Not sure. For now the priority is taking the asset back to base. Hammond?”

“On it,” another, new voice pipped up. Presumably from the front seat.

The Doctor felt the car start to move.

“I can’t breathe,” he gasped. He wasn’t even entirely lying. He was still winded after being tackled by a 250 pound behemoth. The immediate dragging and then smothering weren’t helping. He felt like he was going to pass out.

Surprisingly it seemed like they were listening. The Doctor was pulled into a sitting position and found himself wedged between two very large, very unhappy looking gentlemen.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning forward slightly to try and suck in more oxygen. Logically he knew curling into himself would restrict his airflow but if he was being honest the whole situation was beginning to catch up with him. It had been a very, very long time since he’d had any excitement in his life. In fact for the last twenty years it had been just him and Rose. He spent every day looking after her.

 _Rose_.

“How hard did you hit him Farthing?” the one on the Doctor’s right asked accusingly as his hand lightly stroked the Doctor’s back.

The touch was unwelcome. The Doctor just wanted to go home. He wanted to be able to mourn.

“The fucker’s quick Davidson. If we didn’t outflank him he would have got away.”

Very eloquent, the Doctor thought somewhat irritably.

“Are you hurt?” Davidson asked, his hand still rubbing circles against the Doctor’s back.

“No,” the Doctor said, straightening up to look the other man in the eyes. He was younger than he expected. Brown eyes, brown hair. An average face. He didn’t look particularly frightening but there was something about him that made the Doctor immediately think he was dangerous. “I don’t suppose that, now that you’ve successfully managed to abduct me, anyone would care to tell me what is going on?”

“You’re being brought into Torchwood for questioning,” Fathering said, his eyes narrowing when the Doctor turned to look at him. “If you cooperate you won’t be hurt.”

“But _why_ am I being brought in for questioning?”

“Playing dumb isn’t going to work Doctor,” the one driving said, his green reflected back to the Doctor thought the rear-view mirror.

“I’m not –“ he said, only to be immediately interrupted by Fathering.

“Yes, you are. We know you're not human.”

“But I am human,” the Doctor insisted animatedly. “Extremely human. Extremely human and extremely boring in fact.

“A one hundred and fifty year old human that looks, what, thirty-five tops?”

Danger. He was in so much danger. He thought of the Torchwood from his own dimension and the terrible experiments that had gone on there. He did not want to be on their radar.

So, so not good.


	3. Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those reading and leaving comments :)

“Fathering?”

“I have him,” the agent said, maneuvering the Doctor out of the car door before snagging his shirt and shoving him back against the bonnet. It didn’t hurt exactly but the sudden rough handling was unsettling. It had been a long time since he was on the receiving end of any manner of aggression. His entire body tensed warily.

They had been driving non-stop for over eight hours. Despite being blindfolded and gagged, _because apparently he didn’t know when to shut up,_ the Doctor was fairly sure they were somewhere in the vicinity of northern Scotland. It was a bracingly cold day and he could feel the icy wind bite through his coat and the several layers of his suit.

“I’m going to remove the blindfold,” Fathering said, his sour breath washing over the Doctor’s face, his voice loud enough to be heard over the howling wind. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

The Doctor nodded his head warily and seconds later the blindfold was yanked away from his face. The knot tangled with his hair, snagging painfully and pulling a few strands free.

He blinked slowly, unsurprised that it was late at night. Despite the changes his body had undergone he always instinctively knew what time it was.

They were outside an old, badly upkept manor house. If the Doctor had to guess he would surmise the house was originally built in the late fifteenth hundreds. It was huge and looked to be surrounded by hundreds of acres of land. The Doctor was surprised to note there didn’t appear to be any fences, which suggested that once someone entered they were unlikely to leave unless permitted to do so.

He was surprised when they removed the gag. “Where are we?” He asked immediately.

The agents gaze was intense. “I told you already. Torchwood.”

He was aware that it would take little for the agents to turn aggressive. One of their people had been hurt, potentially quite badly, chasing him. He needed to tread carefully. “And it’s here?” he asked softly.

The agent gripped his upper arm painfully and pulled him away from the car. “One of them.”

“Here,” Davidson said, taking the Doctors arm and pulling him close. “I’ll take him.”

Fathering’s eyes narrowed slightly before he released the doctor’s arm and stepped back. “Take him to processing. I’ll join you after I’ve reported in.”

Hammond, the green eyed, auburn haired driver took the Doctor’s other arm and between them they marched him towards the manor entrance.”So what happens now?” the Doctor asked, resisting the urge to plant his feet. _He did not want to go inside that house._

“Nothing too scary,” Davidson said, his grip tightening for a brief moment before relaxing. “We’ll get you booked in, processed and then you can get something to eat and some sleep. How does that sound?”

“Rather patronising actually,” the Doctor said automatically.

There was a pregnant pause.

“The alternative involves a night in a freezing cold cell in solitary,” Davidson said, his grip bruising as he pulled hard on the Doctor’s arm.

“An unappealing option,” the Doctor said, curbing his tone. He was going into the house. There wasn’t any need to aggravate them just because he couldn’t control his big mouth.

“Well then don’t give us any reason to make life difficult for you,” Davidson warned in a low and falsely friendly tone.

The Doctor forced his mouth closed with an audible click.

“It’s fucking cold as balls,” Hammond complained, hunching into himself against the cold. “They couldn’t house the freaks down south?”

Davidson hummed in agreement, his grip tightening as they reached the steps leading to the front door. The Doctor felt his legs lock. When he refused to move the agents merely dragged him stumbling up the stairs.

The door was opened by a tall, stern faced middle aged woman wearing an expensive looking red suit and a ridiculously high pair of black stiletto shoes. She looked the Doctor up and down with a blank expression before stepping aside and gesturing them inside.

The interior of the manor looked like it was in a better condition than the outside. The little he could see was decked out in luxurious red and gold furnishings. There was a disturbing number of animal heads mounted on the walls, brought into ghastly contrast by the low lighting.

“He’s unharmed?” she asked, her tone as severe as her expression.

“A few scrapes and bruises. Nothing serious,” Hammond said, letting go of the Doctor’s arm and closing the door behind them.

The Doctor felt something unpleasant lodge in his throat as he watched the door slam shit. He turned back to the woman and forced himself not to react to the way she was staring. “Hello,” he said for want of anything better to say. “I’m Theta.”

Her lips pursed into a thin line. “You are the Doctor.”

“I’m really not,” he said. It wasn’t even a lie. He wasn’t the Doctor. He never really was. 

“You are the Doctor. Whatever that may be, you are him.”

“I’m not,” the Doctor insisted. “I’m Theta Tyler. I’m a human male and there is absolutely nothing extraordinary about me.”

It was eerie, the way her expression didn’t alter in the slightest. “You are most especially not just a man, Doctor. Now, if you’ll follow me.”

It wasn’t a request. Davidson pulled him forward, leaving Hammond behind them. They passed through a long, dimly lit corridor.

“One of these things doesn’t belong,” the Doctor said, musing out loud when they reached a clearly high tech, security door. He watched curiously as the woman typed in a code, shielding it from view. He could tell by the way her fingers moved what the digits were. A moment later a hand reader appeared from a secret panel. She pressed her palm against the reader and the door slid open.

Of course the doorway revealed a dark flight of concrete stairs. The Doctor couldn’t help but feel he was being dragged into a dungeon. He debated pulling back but didn’t want to risk injuring himself. He was already at enough of a disadvantage without breaking something vital.

The woman stood in front of him, leading the way as Davidson took the rear. The Doctor took the steps as slowly as he was allowed, hesitating when they reached the bottom and he was faced with at least a dozen other windowless cells.

“Now what?” he asked, hating how tired he sounded. He didn’t react when Davidson took his arm again.

“Like I said. We’re going to process you and then you’ll be given some food and we’ll let you rest.”

“And what exactly does processing entail?”

He was shoved into another room where a young man in a white lab coat was waiting beside a gurney.

“ _Human_ ,” the Doctor said instantly, pulling back. “You’re not going to find anything, other than a very human man.”

“An ordinary, ancient human man,” the agent said, his tone harsh and mocking. “You’re not fooling anyone Doctor.”


	4. Meeting you again for the first time

The Doctor clenched his teeth when they made him strip. He refused to feel gratitude because they allowed him to keep his underwear and undershirt on. He tried not to look too pathetic as he stood in the middle of the room, the agent a hulking presence at his back.

“A quick examination,” the woman said as he gestured towards the gurney. “Doctor Collin’s will be done in no time, providing you comply.”

The young man looked almost bored. When the Doctor didn’t move his expression morphed into mild annoyance. “It’s nothing too invasive, I assure you.”

“What are you going to do?” the Doctor asked, his muscles locking painfully as he looked warily between them. He didn’t want some stranger touching him. Not when he was half-naked and vulnerable. He could only wonder what they might do to him in a pointless effort to prove he wasn’t human. He couldn’t fathom willingly allowing that. 

“A standard examination to ensure you’re unhurt. I understand there was a struggle when you were brought it.”

“I’m fine,” the Doctor said, resisting the urge to flinch when the agent grabbed his shoulder. “Really, I’m perfectly fine. There isn’t any need -”

“Get on the table,” the agent hissed, shoving the slighter man forward with enough force to send the Doctor stumbling into the gurney. “And do what the doctor tells you. Otherwise we’ll strap you down.”

“There isn’t any need to shove,” the Doctor said, scowling. He hesitated for a moment, but really he did not want to be tied down and could easily guess the inevitable conclusion if he tried to fight them. He could feel his guts churning but he got on the table. 

True to his word the doctor conducted a relatively mild examination. His fingers brushed over the bruising around the Doctor’s wrists and biceps but didn’t comment beyond a soft humming noise. He checked the Doctor’s heartbeat, blood pressure and reflexes. Finally, he pulled out a syringe.

“What’s that for?” the Doctor asked, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.

“Relax, Doctor. He’s just going to take some blood,” the woman said, sounding mildly patronising. “There isn’t anything in the vial. Show him, doctor Collins.” 

The young man held up the syringe. 

“See,” she said. “We’re not injecting you with anything.”

He nodded his head warily and allowed them to take a sample. Hopefully, once they verified he was in fact a biological human as he claimed they would let him go. It was doubtful, given how much they already seemed to know about him, but stranger things had happened. 

“We done?” Davidson asked, addressing the woman.

A short nod in response.

“Good,” Davidson grumbled. He looked back at the Doctor. “Up you get then and I’ll take you to your room to rest, just like I promised.”

“Ah, yes. Entirely true to your word. Lucky me,” the Doctor said as he got quickly off the gurney, glad to be free of it. He went to reach for his clothes but the agent grabbed his wrist and dragged him upright. 

“You aren’t going to need those,” he said, tugging the Doctor back into the hallway.

“I beg to differ,” he said, very much aware that he was half naked in a freezing cold holding facility. Clothes seemed somewhat vital, in fact.

“You’ll be given something more suitable in a short while.”

“My own clothes are fine,” the Doctor said, trying for calm despite the very not happy faces surrounding him. “Also, you don’t need to drag me everywhere. You’ll note I’m not fighting you.”

“And you’re also not chained and sedated, Doctor,” the woman said, stepping beside him with a delicate frown. “Things could be far worse, I assure you. And if you continue to question us it will be. Now move.”

The agents hold was painfully tight. The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath against the hurt and stumbled alongside both of them. They went down another flight of stairs and into a brightly lit area. The Doctor stuttered a little when they reached a block of prison cells, all of them small, box like rooms with transparent glass walls, a small cot, a toilet and a sink.

A few of the rooms were already inhabited. They people inside looked humanoid to the Doctor, but he would have to spend a little more time studying them before he could be sure. 

“In you go,” the agent said, leading him inside and pushing him onto the cot. “Get some rest. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“Your concern is touching,” the Doctor said, sitting up and watching the pair carefully.

“We’ll speak more tomorrow, Doctor,” the woman said, smiling as she closed the door behind her.

The Doctor watched them walk away. As soon as they were out of the room the lights switched off and the Doctor was thrown into complete darkness.

He heard whispering. A few of the other prisoners called out to him. The Doctor stopped listening after a short time. He struggled with the blankets and drew them over his head, trying to conserve heat in the frigid room.

He was exhausted but every time he closed his eyes he thought of his sweet, lost Rose. They had shared an amazing life together. She had been his everything, His world. She kept him sane and made everything he lost bearable. 

And he was never going to see her again. 

He felt tears stream down his face. He wondered if they were monitoring him and made sure to keep silent and still.

But he cried for her. He cried for his Rose.

*************

“Well?” Jack asked, flashing a bright and devilishly handsome smile at Patrice. “How did it go?”

“It could have gone better,” she said, frowning as she took a seat directly opposite him. “However, given that he’s largely an unknown entity I suppose things could have gone considerably worse.”

“Casualties?”

“Barker is in the infirmary.”

“I thought he was supposed to be non-violent?” Jack asked, surprised. The Doctor was reportedly a pacifist who abhorred violence. Jack would have sent a more heavy hitting task force if he’d realised the man was capable of physical violence. 

“Barker got hit by a car chasing him, the bloody idiot. The man has a concussion but he’s on his way to recovery. Other than that there were no other casualties. The Doctor does not appear to be violent, though he is rather mouthy.”

Relieved, Jack nodded his head thoughtfully before getting to his feet. “Has he admitted who he really is?”

“He’s claiming to be Theta Tyler, Rose Tyler’s grandson.”

“Did you get anything from his exam?”

“It was a very minor examination, but so far nothing is showing as abnormal. He definitely only has one heart.”

“Disappointing, but not entirely unexpected. Come on then. I’m eager to meet the fabled Doctor of old.”

They descended the stairs together and walked into the higher holding cells. As the lights came on many of the prisoners turned sharply to look at him, ducking down to avoid his gaze. The Doctor wasn’t among them. In fact, all that was visible was a tuff of thick brown hair sticking out from beneath a thin standard issue blanket.

“Open the door,” Jack said, stepping inside. He held out his hand when she went to follow him. “Give me a moment.”

“Yes sir, of course,” she said, her smooth expression barely masking her irritation as she stepped back.

Jack closed the door behind him and coughed softly. The figure on the bed immediately stirred and slowly curled into himself. He didn’t shift from beneath the bed. 

“You planning on coming out?” Jack asked, amused.

“Are you planning on letting me go?” the other man asked, the Estuary lilt of his accent surprisingly pleasant. 

“Well that all depends on you, Doctor and your ability to cooperate.”

He was met with silence.

“Are you going to make me force you? Truth be told I’m not opposed to a little tussle now and again.”

The alien sat bolt upright and stared at Jack with huge, pretty brown eyes. The colour seemed to abruptly drain from his face and his mouth opened to form a question that he didn’t appear capable of wording.

Jack found himself grinning at the alien. Because, wow. He had seen pictures of him, of course he had, but the Doctor was just lovely. Willowy and angular with amazing hair and a truly expressive face. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he said, holding out his hand. “Hi.”

The Doctor frowned down at Jack’s hand and then looked back up at his face. “Stop it,” he said, his expression severe but his eyes sparkling with some indistinguishable emotion.

“I’m only saying hello,” Jack said, affecting mock indignation.

“Of course you were,” the Doctor said, his eyes still locked on Jack’s face. It was a little unnerving, if he was being honest with himself, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was bothering him. The Doctor certainly didn’t look dangerous at first glance.

“So I’m guessing you’d like to know why you’re here?”

“The thought has crossed my mind,” the Doctor said, pursing his lips and sitting back slightly. “Are you in the habit of kidnapping people off the street, Captain?”

“Some would argue that aliens aren’t people, Doctor.”

A flicker of anger quickly gave way to a look of mild indifference. “It’s a good job I’m not an alien then, I suppose. Also, my name is Theta.”

“Is that what you prefer to be called now? I’m told you used to have people call you John Smith.”

The other man's eyes didn’t even flicker at the name. “I’d like to go home. Can you tell me the quickest way to make that happen?”

Jack almost felt sorry for him. It wasn’t often he felt anything for the freaks and he had to sqaush down the urge to offer comfort. “You’re not leaving us Doctor.”

“What, you mean ever?” the alien scoffed.

“Well, yes. And given that you don’t appear to age I imagine you might want to get comfortable. You’ve got a long wait ahead of you.”

The Doctor stood up abruptly, clutching the sheet to his chest as he glared down at Jack. He was surprisingly tall, the Captain noted somewhat absently as he stood up himself.

“Why are you doing this?” the Doctor demanded, gesturing around them in obvious disgust. “What do you hope to achieve?”

“We’re a government facility that studies things not of this world, Doctor. What do you suppose our goals are?”

“I suppose, given how you have imprisoned this other poor souls, that your goals are foul and misguided. You don’t have the right to keep us here. Any of us," his expression softened slightly and he took a small step forward. “Surely you can see that what you’re doing is wrong, Jack? I can’t believe you’re not the sort of man that can tell right from wrong.”

Jack paused for a moment, unsure and a little rattled despite himself. He felt himself frown and fought to bring forth a bright, enthusiastic grin. “You’re interesting, Doctor. You know that?”

The alien’s frown deepened. He shook his head slightly, stepping back. “This is wrong, Jack. And you know it.”

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” he said, ruffling the Doctor’s soft brown hair. “Until then, sit tight and try to do as you’re told.”

“Wait,” the Doctor said, following him to the door.

“No,” Jack said, turning back to him and slamming the door closed. “We’re done talking for now.”


End file.
